


A Compromised Position

by Bettybackintheday



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Clintasha - Freeform, F/M, Mission Fic, Romance Disguised as Action Adventure, mission gone south, old school Agents of SHIELD, strike team delta's first official extraction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-29
Updated: 2016-06-29
Packaged: 2018-07-18 22:22:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7333030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bettybackintheday/pseuds/Bettybackintheday
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Strike Team Delta doesn't require a S.H.I.E.L.D. extraction plan, except for when they do. Enter Coulson and his Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Compromised Position

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written back in December 2013 as part of a holiday fic exchange and posted elsewhere. I'm finally adding it to my AO3. I fixed some typos, but resisted the urge to rewrite some parts. It is truly old school Avengers and Agents of SHIELD and I want to keep that vibe. Of all the stories I've written, this one is quite possibly my favorite.

A Compromised Position

A screeching ring sounded throughout the entire plane as it sat idle waiting for its next flight plan. All eyes fell on Coulson. His normally reserved and unfazed demeanor took a slight, but noticeable turn. To everyone present he looked surprised.

Skye burst into the lounge area. "What the hell is that noise?" she demanded.

Without looking at her, Simmons replied quietly, "The phone that never rings."

"Really? Well it's ringing now. Who's going to answer it?"

Coulson bolted from his seat and picked up the screeching device. "I am. Only I can answer it."

"Dramatic much? Oh, wait, that's all you ever are," came Skye's snarky reply.

"Actually," began Simmons, "he is the only person who can answer that phone. It's specially tailored to his DNA. If anyone else picked it up while it was going off, the signal would be cut and the call lost. A necessary precaution. Brilliant, don't you think?" She looked to Fitz and was rewarded with his enthusiastic nod.

The call connected as Coulson answered the phone. "Go."

His face remained neutral, but the vein that ran from his forehead down the side of his face began to pulse. "Coordinates," he spoke into the phone as he locked Agent May in a death glare. She remotely accessed the plane's private data system via her phone and got the coordinates fed into it.

"Two hours," was her curt reply to an unasked question.

Coulson continued to stare at May as he spoke into the phone. "One hour. Full compliment. Comin' in hot." There was a brief pause as if he wanted to say more, but he let out a small sigh and switched off the phone.

"Can you confirm your call for going in hot, sir?" asked Agent Ward.

"Confirmed. You know what to do," he replied to Ward. With a nod of his head the agent hurried from the room. "Agent May, you need to shave 60 minutes of travel time and prepare for a hostile landing." Agent May bolted from the lounge without a word. "Fitz Simmons, prepare a medical field kit. A big one. Full service. Surgical."

"Yes, sir," they replied in unison and ran to their lab.

As Coulson turned, he was met with the wide eyes of Skye.

"Strike Team Delta is compromised in hostile territory. They need extraction." He began to move past her.

"And what level is Strike Team Delta information? I have no idea what's going on or what I'm supposed to do," she whined.

"Agents Barton and Romanoff," stated Coulson as if that was the most obvious answer in the world.

"Hey, aren't those the agents who never get an extraction team? Why do they get one now?"

"Because they asked." He ran from the room leaving a dumbfounded Skye staring after him.

72 minutes later…

As Natasha Romanoff lay flat on her back on the wet moss, her survival skills were in overdrive. She heard every little sound. The only sound she was focused on, however, was the irregular heartbeat belonging to her partner, Clint Barton. Even in his debilitated state, his instinct was to protect her. She thought she should be annoyed as his body lay draped over hers as a human shield. All she could feel, however, was relief at his closeness.

Their unlikely hiding place presented itself quite by accident. While making their impromptu escape from the Hydra stronghold, they were attacked from the sky. The violence of the airstrike ruptured the ground around the two agents. They fell several feet into a chasm that was part of natural underground caverns.

The wounds they sustained from the failed escape plan were bad enough, but the fall brought additional injuries. While unable to bring Romanoff back to consciousness after the fall and before dragging both she and himself out of the line of fire and into the relative safety of the closest dark cave, Barton did two things he'd never done before. First, he panicked. Second, he dialed a number he never thought he would ever have to call. It's a good thing his partner was out cold. If she'd caught him dialing, she would've finished Hydra's job for them.

After completing the call, Barton detonated a small explosive that closed the gaping hole to the surface. He dragged his unconscious partner into the cave and rested her carefully on the soft moss. He then allowed himself a quick glance at his body. He didn't think it was possible to look worse than he felt, but that's exactly the way it was.

As he felt time slipping away he looked down to his partner. Her bruised eyes were staring back at him. "You look like hell, Barton," she whispered.

"I made the call. Sixty minutes. Comin' in hot," was his reply. As he braced for some form of physical retaliation from his partner, he was shocked at what he actually got in response: a smile.

"Can you say 'compromised position?' So, we'll finally get to see how the other half lives," she said.

He smiled in return.

Explosions above them were forcing dirt and debris to fall from the cave walls and onto their battered forms. Feeling weak and continuing to lose blood, Clint draped himself over Natasha and placed a small kiss on her cheek as he lost consciousness.

Unable to move due to her injuries, Natasha squeezed her hand into his and began to count down the minutes until the cavalry arrived. She hoped it would be in time.

Agent May brought the plane down to the ground without grace. Or brakes. While the landing may have looked haphazard and lucky, it was quite a precise maneuver. "The Bus" came to rest directly over the coordinates communicated by Strike Team Delta 79 minutes ago.

As Skye watched from the safety of the cabin, the SHIELD agents rushed out of the plane and began their extraction procedure. Each wore full tactical gear and was armed to the hilt with all manner of weapons. She was sure Fitz and Simmons didn't know how to use half of what dangled from their utility belts, but she was also sure that their expertise on this mission wasn't defense.

Coulson expertly planted a device that reopened the hole Clint's explosive had closed. All five of the black-clad humans jumped into the resulting pit. There was no hesitation, no thought involved, only decisive action. Skye whispered to herself, "Wow. These must be two very important assets." She shook her head, "Ugh! People. Damn you, SHIELD training. They're people…"

As the group followed the path left by the previous two agents into the cave, they heard coughing and a weak female voice, "What the hell took you so long?"

A sad smile crept over Coulson's face as he raced toward his fallen agents. "I wasn't sure that phone even worked. Imagine my surprise."

"Yours?" came the indignant reply. "The only reason I didn't kill Barton for calling is because he's really dying. You fix him and then we discuss the call."

As Coulson came upon the tangled mess of bodies, his heart stuck in his throat. A pool of blood surrounded their still forms. Though badly wounded and nearly paralyzed, the Black Widow still looked deadly and able to take out the small SHIELD extraction team before taking her next breath. She bore a hole into the eyes of her former handler. "Fix him." It was a plea; it was a prayer; it was a command.

"Fitz Simmons, you heard Agent Romanoff. Fix Agent Barton. Now," instructed Coulson.

As the scientists approached the two legendary agents, they began to fumble over their words. "It is such a pleasure to meet you, Agent Romanoff," began Fitz.

"Oh, you have no idea how exciting it is to rescue you," Simmons practically squealed.

"Save it, kids," Agent Romanoff said, cutting off any further attempt at useless conversation. "Your reputation precedes you. Show me how good you really are. Save Agent Barton." She turned her attention to the bodies beyond the two young agents. "Agent May, there are no hostiles down here. Take the eye candy and prepare at ground level for another Hydra attack."

Without a second glance, Agent May grabbed Agent Ward's elbow and started to direct him back toward the gate. "What the …" protested Ward. "Hey, look, you might have some cult obsession with these two, but not me," he growled as he twisted from her grasp.

"Agent Ward, we've received orders," came the scarily calm voice of Agent May. "Let's go, eye candy."

With a resigned yet determined shake of his head, Agent Ward began a weapons check as he followed May back to the surface.

Coulson quietly approached the injured agents. The gasps and moans he was hearing were not comforting, especially since they were coming from his scientists and not the injured agents.

"Ok, let's see, oh, my. Umm, ok. Agent Barton, we're just going to get you on your back and, oh, dear, that's a lot of blood. Ok, no worries. We'll just get you over here and…" Simmons suddenly stopped when the previously unresponsive Barton began to shake and flail his arm in the air.

"Don't move him so far away," came the quiet but commanding voice of Romanoff. "Put his hand in mine."

Fitz knew the rumors of their nonverbal communication were legendary. But that's all they were, right, rumors and legends? He stammered, "Ah, Agent Romanoff, we're going to, yes, um, need room to work on him, so there might not be enough room to keep you touching him. It's going to be best…"

"Best to let me hold his hand. Trust me," she said simply.

A quick glance at their superior officer confirmed that course of action. Coulson had seen his two agents perform miracles together. If Romanoff wanted to maintain contact with Barton, well then, that's what was going to happen.

After a few strokes of Natasha's thumb over Clint's wrist, his body calmed and became perfectly still. The two young agents held each other's shocked gazes for a brief moment then went back to work.

Heart monitor, oxygen mask, and various gadgets were hooked up. They worked quietly and effectively. This bothered Coulson because these two were never quiet. He kneeled over Romanoff and began to talk to keep both of them focused on something other than Barton's condition.

"So, fancy meeting you here, huh?" asked Coulson.

"Damn Hydra. They broke our perfect streak. No other team has come close to our number of missions without SHIELD extraction, though. So, there's that. Personally, I think Clint just wanted to see you. He's jealous of Cap, you know?" she teased her former handler and squeezed Clint's hand.

Coulson chuckled then got quiet. "What about you?"

Now it was Natasha's turn to chuckle. "Me? Oh, the usual. Keeping all the guys in line. Writing reports. Saving Clint's ass…" her voice trailed off. A tiny tear formed and was daring to escape her left eye.

"Ya know, Romanoff, it's bad enough you're immobile here, but all this dirt…" said Coulson as he began wiping away dust and dirt from her face. He nonchalantly caught the tear with the corner of the towel and wiped it away without a fuss. "Can you move?" he asked with just the slightest hint of a comforting smile.

Suddenly a high-pitched sound came from one of the monitors. Wide eyes and sudden movements blurring Fitz and Simmons into one dark shifting mass broke the relative calm of the cave. Romanoff bolted up off the ground without any sign of her previous prone state. "I'll take that as a yes…" murmured Coulson as he shadowed her to Clint's side.

"Agent," said the oddly calm voice of Agent Simmons, "I need you to help us with CPR. Can you do that?"

"Yes," was Natasha's fast and firm reply.

"Good. I'll take chest compressions, Agent Fitz will continue sealing up these wounds and replacing his…" she paused and quickly sighed, "never ending blood loss, and you can provide the breaths. Yes?"

"Of course," Romanoff quipped. She crawled to Clint's shoulders and gently tilted his head back. As she lowered her lips to cover his and force her air into his lungs, she whispered in a commanding tone into his ear, "You are not going to die tonight. Do you hear me? Not tonight." She covered his mouth and began to breathe for him as Agent Simmons pumped his heart and Agent Fitz hurriedly continued his ministrations.

"Sir," called Simmons. "I need to you get the defibrillator set up. I'll let you know when to shock him."

Coulson scrambled over Romanoff and quickly set up the SHIELD equipment. He nodded to Simmons when everything was ready. She called out the instructions, "Just a few more compressions then… everyone ready… and 3 – 2 – 1 CLEAR!"

In one smooth motion, all three agents sat back on their heels away from Agent Barton. Coulson sent the charge through his body. The annoying monotone warning continued. Explosions rattled the cave from above. Coulson shocked him again. After a few seconds and four held breaths, the tone changed to a staccato beep.

Natasha bent her head down to Clint's lips as if to continue puffing breaths. Agent Simmons began, "Umm, Agent Romanoff, he should be ok for now, umm, no need to… oh, ok then, umm, never mind. I'll just go back to… yes…"

Natasha brushed a gentle, chaste kiss across his lips. She then spoke softly into his ear. "That's the Clint I know and love. Now fight through this so we can get the hell out of here. We'll be recovering in Tahiti. I hear it's a magical place." She met Coulson's eyes as she sat up.

"Tahiti is above your pay grade, Agent. Don't be in any hurry to get there," came Coulson's curt reply.

A confused look crossed her face and she gave her trademark head tilt. That was not the response she was expecting to her albeit weak attempt at a joke. Everything she'd heard about Coulson's recovery, including his own brief message to them when he was allowed to let them know of his status – that being "alive" – was that Tahiti was magical and healing. Suddenly she got a vibe that that was not the case.

To avoid questions, Coulson contacted his agents up on ground level. "Agent May, report."

"We are getting hammered up here. Nothing from the air, just ground assault, but it's pretty intense. I suggest coming up here now or you'll become a very confusing archaeological find some day."

Fitz jumped into the conversation. "Agent Barton is now stable enough to move. The hover stretcher is ready for transport to The Bus. Agent Romanoff should be able to be pulled up with the rest of us. On our way," he concluded.

The group made their way to the opening. A remote controlled stretcher held the body of Barton and it was being sent up to ground level. Once there, the stretcher was met by Agent Ward and he provided cover all the way to the aircraft. From there, Skye took over the controls and guided the stretcher into the lab. Her eyes never left the battered yet attractive body of Agent Barton. "Now I see what all the fuss was about," she murmured to herself.

Agents May and Ward provided cover for the rest of the SHIELD team as they boarded the aircraft. Before making her way up the ramp, Romanoff turned and defiantly emptied each of her magazines in the direction of the ground forces Hydra deployed. "Tasha, c'mon," yelled Coulson over the gunfire. "You're not helping matters."

"Says who? I feel much better. Get me Barton's bow and let me shoot a few exploding arrows their way and I'll feel even better yet," she yelled back.

A rough shove between her shoulder blades kept her moving up the ramp. "Let's go, Romanoff. It's finally my turn to show off," said May in a low voice. The two women held each other's eye contact the whole way up the ramp. Before May broke away to pilot the plane, she was rewarded with high praise from Natasha.

"Impress me," whispered Natasha through a small smile. She turned to Coulson suddenly serious, "Where's Barton?"

"This way," he said as he led her to the lab and to her partner.

As they approached, they heard the sound of what could only be described as giggles. A smirk grew on Coulson's face and Romanoff shook her head. "Guess who's awake?" she said as she couldn't control the smile that lit up her face.

When she walked into the room all laughter ceased as Skye and Simmons quickly stood up straight and backed away from Agent Barton's hovering stretcher.

"Finally," came the exasperated sigh from Fitz who was able to maneuver an actual hospital bed under the stretcher and record the readings from all the various monitors.

"Nat, is that you?" came the teasing voice from the archer.

"Who else can clear a room like that?" she replied.

As he smiled he reached out his right hand toward her. She walked over and grasped it tight. She bent down and placed a warm kiss on his forehead.

"Eh, Hm," coughed Coulson to prevent this uncharacteristic public display of affection from going any further. "Everyone needs to find a secure seat. Agent May is about to strut her stuff."

Fitz and Romanoff made sure Barton was secure before securing themselves, Fitz at the foot of the bed and Romanoff next to Barton's head. The plane began to move.

"Hang on, Barton. Melinda promised me a real show. Should be just like old times," said Romanoff as she calmly ran her fingers through his blood-matted hair.

"Now we're talkin'," sighed Agent Barton. "Hey, Nat?" he said weakly as he rolled his eyes up to try to get a look at her.

"Relax. We can talk later," she said sternly.

"Look, you scared the hell out of me back there, an-," he began.

Indignantly she cut him off. "ME? I didn't flat line in a cave in the middle of a Hydra base!" she ranted.

"No, but you were out cold and possibly paralyzed," he sighed. "How's that one-upmanship thing working for you now?"

"Hey, you two, you do realize you have an audience, don't you?" came the commanding voice of their former handler.

"C'mon, Coulson," said Clint. "I thought what happens on The Bus, stays on the The Bus."

"All I can say is, once we're clear of this situation, Director Fury will dial in to all our comms at once. That distasteful conversation will be followed by a mountain of paperwork the likes of which you've never seen before – ya know, with this being your first extraction and all. Therefore, my advice to you is to keep it strictly business while we're –"

Suddenly the plane lurched forward, straight up, and took a sharp right turn. Even sitting in a windowless lab, everyone could tell they were traveling at an odd angle and at a very high rate of speed. A loud concussive blast shook the plane. An uneasy silence settled over the lab as everyone sat wide-eyed looking at each other.

The calm and self-assured voice of Agent May echoed through the aircraft. "Agents, and Skye, the Hydra ground forces are neutralized. Aaaaaand," she trailed off until a second blast shook the plane. "I have visual confirmation that the base is wiped from the map." There was a short pause before she added, "You're welcome. Contacting SHIELD's closest trauma unit to let them know Strike Team Delta will be spending a few days with them."

Romanoff rolled her eyes. "She's enjoying this a little too much," she whispered.

Barton looked up at Romanoff. "We're not living this one down for a long time, huh?" he stated more than asked.

Coulson beat Romanoff to the reply, "Oh, you're never living this one down. Agents, and Skye, you just witnessed the birth of a legend."

"Well," sighed Romanoff as she unbuckled herself and walked over to Coulson, "add this one to our list of legends. I'm just glad you were still able to be a part of it." She knelt down in front of Coulson and looked him in the eyes. "I can never thank you enough for answering that call and putting your new team in harm's way to save us. What I can do," and she looked around the lab at Fitz, Simmons, and Skye, "is confirm that you've put together a kickass group of people." She turned back to Coulson and embraced him. The hug was short, but fierce.

A small voice from across the room added, "I second that."

With that, Romanoff stood up with a beaming smile and said, "And now, if you don't mind, I'd like a little privacy with Agent Barton." It was a thinly veiled command.

"I'll go have a talk with May. We may be having trouble with our communication system. Director Fury's call isn't coming through," stated Coulson. He met Romanoff's smile with one of his own. On his way out of the lab, he stopped at Clint's bedside to offer a handshake and a quick ruffling of hair.

Fitz and Simmons began rehashing the rescue on their way out of the lab. Skye was slower and more reluctant to leave. "What is it?" asked Romanoff.

Without hesitation or intimidation, Skye replied, "You. I've read your background, files, reports, anything I could get access to. Not only should you be dead a hundred times over, you should be an emotional wreck. Yet, here you are…"

The two women stood and stared at each other. Neither was sure how to respond. Skye wasn't wrong, but Romanoff was not one to express emotions, especially to a complete stranger.

"I just, I had a tough… ya know how it goes, life isn't fair. I'm not bitching or anything, and I know how I got this far… but how do you do it?" Skye stammered.

Romanoff offered a quick glance over to Barton. "Somebody for some reason thought I was worth saving; worth a second chance. When that opportunity comes along, you hold onto it with both hands and be grateful for every minute you've been given. It doesn't change the past, but it makes the future look just a little bit brighter. Coulson sees something in you. Don't let him down, but don't let yourself down, either. Looking forward to seeing you around SHIELD."

The voice from across the room chimed in again, "Me, too."

Skye smiled, nodded to Romanoff and left the lab.

As Romanoff made her way over to Barton, he asked, "Are we alone?"

"As alone as we're going to get on a SHIELD aircraft, yes," she carefully answered.

"Good, because I have been dying to kiss you since we fell into the caves," he asserted.

"Dying. Yes, I heard," she tried to tease, but her face fell when their eyes met. "You scared the hell out of me," she whispered.

"Right back at ya, Tasha. That's why I made the call. I'd make it again and pull in anybody it took to save you," he admitted.

She smiled and said, "I'm glad it was you making the call, but if things had been reversed, I'd have made the call for you, too."

"THAT tells me everything I need to know," he whispered as she bent her head and placed the long-awaited kiss onto his lips.


End file.
